By Marv Knox
Baptists lost one of our true giants when Cecil Sherman died April 17.
Cecil Sherman will go down in history as the first coordinator of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship. At the time, it was a fledgling group of so-called moderate Baptists who lost their place in the Southern Baptist Convention in 1990 and set out to continue to practice their “free and faithful” Baptist heritage. That was a noble, adventurous and monumental undertaking in its own right.
But Cecil was so much more than that one shining accomplishment.
He was an exemplary role model — a bastion of courage, integrity, wisdom and faithfulness. He embodied Baptist principles and distinctives, such as fervent belief in soul competency and the priesthood of all believers, and their corollary, the autonomy of the local church. He modeled authentic, respectful evangelism. He lived out a lifelong commitment to ministry and missions.
Several years ago, Cecil visited our church in Kentucky. He preached in the morning service and then he spoke at a luncheon on “being Baptist.” I wish every Baptist who bears the name could have heard him speak. Not only did he nail the basic doctrines and practices Baptists have championed for 400 years, but he also described them so fervently that he made all of us want to reflect them more accurately and honestly in our own lives.
Cecil was a practical-yet-passionate pastor. I remember him talking about moving to Fort Worth, Texas, to lead Broadway Baptist Church. At the time, the old downtown church was suffering the declines that have afflicted many congregations separated from suburbia. Cecil knew and respected the church’s traditions for exemplary worship. He was an excellent preacher, and he contributed mightily as that church enjoined God. But he also understood the church would dwindle and die if it did not attract young families. So he set out to do that, the hard-but-effective way. He got in his car and drove all over the city and sat in their living rooms and visited with the parents and joked with the children and loved them into the church. He would say you can’t cut corners on doing church right. And he never did.
For years, he wrote Sunday school lessons. They were simple and approachable by all laity, and yet they were deep and profound. He wrote simple, direct sentences so well, he would make Hemingway jealous.
Early on in his recent bout with cancer, the Associated Baptist Press board of directors presented its Religious Freedom Award to Cecil. At the time, he could not move among crowds, and so I was privileged to visit his room in M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, where I stood with his daughter, Eugenia, and his brother, Bill, and talked to him about how many people loved and admired him. About how we had taken strength from his courage and guidance from his integrity. Standing in his presence, talking about values that have provided Baptists with backbone for four centuries, was one of the holiest moments of my life.
Cecil rallied then and returned to a productive life in Richmond, Va., where friends and colleagues from ABP later presented that same award again — this time publicly. He served and encouraged folks up until the end, when he was felled by a massive heart attack last week.
We will not know another like him.